Devils and Angels
by Tears of Thunder
Summary: rating subject to change...this story is basically ...um...think pirates of the Caribean meets Xmen. Staring Gambit and Logan centrally, and my original char. Give it a chance? New Chapter Punishment
1. Default Chapter

Prolog

I couldn't have told you back then that I would be where I am today. I was always obedient, proper, well mannered and refined, but then again, that is what was expected of me. I had been spanked as a child, reprimanded and scolded as teenager, and now, at young 19, threatened into being that way. I always sucked in my stomach as they laced my corset, held my chin level walking down the street, and kept silent and submissive in the presence of fellow aristocrats and nobleman. No…I would have never been here. I would never have been here in the arms of a strange auburn haired pirate with the devils eyes and an angels' smile.

My father, Commodore Benedict, was strict, and should my mother be alive I would certainly expect she would do the same, though, in a more loving manner. To my father however, I am his chess piece, a pawn for him to achieve his purposes. That is why I am now engaged to the young mayor of our city, Kyle Brandenburg. He is an ever rising 'star' among the political world, and my father promised him my hand, a sure fire way for him to remain comfortable in the lifestyle he has grown accustomed to.

Kyle knew of my fathers' intentions on giving myself to him, but he doesn't care. He has been obsessed with me since I was child, and he a young adult, snobbishly trying to push my limits and get me into trouble. He knew of my silence and how I would be beaten if I spoke out of place, and he would poke and prod, whispering filthy things into my ear while the adults spoke with one another over wine and caviar. I had been caught telling him to mind his manners too many times, and I grew accustomed to his ways, and blocked out his words while I dived myself into a world of make believe, where I was princess held captive by the king, and was plotting her way to freedom.

Little has changed since those days, and I still somehow entertain the idea of being rescued by a handsome young man to take me far away. Childish notions as they are, they were sustaining. That is, until the engagement was announced, and it happened.

My name is Celeste Aurora Benedict, and I am not your ordinary noble. Something has happened to make me different from all the other people around me.

The day the announcement was made, Kyle pinned me between himself and a wall. I was afraid looking up at him, I felt helpless, and wished with all my heart to fade away, wishing to become invisible to him, so he couldn't touch me, so his hand would stop groping my chest, so his teeth would stop biting my ear….

I wished to disappear…and I did.


	2. chapter one The Devils Eyes

Chapter 1

It had taken me days to become visible again, and when I did, I was scolded for hours. I explained what had happened, and of course, father didn't mind Kyle's advances, saying that we were engaged and that behavior like that was to be expected, and to keep it hush until we were officially wed. Typical. I bowed my head and took it all in.

Mutant. That's what father had called me. Apparently he had heard that there was this strange and rare disease that made humans become monsters. I had been instructed to hide my identity, and apart from my new, violet and color changing eyes, the mutation as he called it, was easily hidden.

Still, for weeks afterwards, if I got frightened or startled, I would suddenly become invisible, and it took hours for me to fade back in again.

It was never spoken of around the house again.

Yet then again, it was how I met him…that strange man at the tavern. I had had enough of being locked inside because of this 'mutation' and I had to get outside, if only for a while. I picked out my plainest dress and snuck out my window to wander the dark streets alone.

The air seemed so clean that night, free of dust and pollen and fragrant as fresh spring rain, and the sky was as deeply black as the sea at night, and flecks of light, the stars, twinkled brilliantly in their aquatic blanket. It brought a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. I could look on forever into the expanse of the sky and just dream that things were different. What would have happened if things were different and I was born a commoner? Would I still be marrying Kyle? Or would I be free to marry a man I loved?

I would be free! I would be able to walk this harbor town with a smile and wild spirit, like the one I know I have deep down! I curled my fingers into my long golden brown hair and smoothed it back, knowing the bun in my hair would fall loose if I wasn't careful, and holding my cloak shut with my free hand as I watched the cobblestone pavement pass beneath my moving feet. I would be walking these streets a different girl.

I looked over towards the tavern, and thought 'why not' as my stride paced onwards towards it. It would be my only time there…right? I stopped at the door, hand pausing just a hair over the copper handle. My eyes peered inside. Would anyone recognize me? I quickly drew my hand away and pulled the pin from my hair, tossed it into the bushes beside the tavern and combed it with my fingers. No one had ever seen me with my hair down, seeing as father thought it was a shameful thing for a woman to do outside her home. But of course, father wasn't here!

I took a breath and walked inside, startled at first by the cloud that met me. Cigars smoldered in the hands of several men, and rolled papers filled with imported tobacco hung from the lips of several others. One such man was close, and my lung protested the smoke it took in, and a coughed, though it was drowned out by the man and his fiddle who sat on a small stage up front. The music, loud and boisterous, as well as the clamor of shouts, conversation of sailors and seamen, and even the sight of a few prostitutes startled me further. I had known that taverns were the meeting place of all sorts of people, but I had no idea that so many foreigners gathered here. SO many different accents, languages and gestures…I felt over loaded, and dimly I realized I still stood in the doorway, attracting stares.

I quickly closed the door and took a step further in, scanning for a free seat. What exactly did one do in such a place anyway?

The man whose smoke I inhaled earlier looked up at me, as I rubbed my eyes, feeling them sting from it as well.

A smooth, rich French voice curled up towards me with the smoke that came from the same lips. "What's da matter petit? Dun come t'taverns much, do ya." It was more of a statement than a question, and I felt my heart sink as I realized I was so transparent. It was obvious, yet still I denied it.

"No Sir, I frequent these places regularly. You must be mistaken!" I Realized my chin was level as I spoke, and I did not look him in the eyes, a sure fire give away of my class. So I instantly relaxed my posture, trying to fit in as my gaze fell to the man who spoke to me. I had to be convincing!

My breath caught in my lungs, not from the smoke this time, but from the man before me.

Eyes…the Devils eyes.

I looked away, blushing though I wasn't sure why. They had been ruby red on garnet black, alive and fiery, almost aglow!

I dared another look, but this time, took the rest of him in as well.

He was around 21 or so, I gathered, with slightly grown out, yet full unruly auburn hair waving lazily over his forehead. He had broad shoulders, a chiseled, square chin, and soft pouty lips curved into a smirk. His button up dress shirt certainly wasn't dressy, but was only buttoned half way, leaving it open, the dark hairs of a mans chest that were left so openly for inspection drawing my curious stare. My cheeks felt warm.

His voice startled me from my speculation, saying, "Alrigh', be honest, on a scale of one to ten Gambit is…. 8? 9 mehbe?" His smirk grew arrogant and eyes sharpened in a seducing way I had never before seen.

I felt my face grow furiously hot with a blush, reprimanding myself mentally for having so empty headedly and openly stare at him. I turned away from him again, flustered and certainly wanting to crawl under a rock.

"I…uh-I wasn't…" I felt myself shaking a bit, amazed at how timid my own voice sounded.

Apparently he thought so too, as his smirk vanished and those devilish eyes grew soft.

"You okay chere?" He pulled his rolled tobacco away from his lips.

I didn't answer, I just turned to leave the embarrassment, to head outside when I felt a hand on my wrist, and a soft tug. It was coaxing and accompanied by that voice of his.

"Why dun you sit down…you look like you need it. Need some water?"

I looked back, and certainly felt lightheaded and dehydrated. He gestured to a chair beside him at his table.

I nodded.

I sat down as he got up and went to the bar, and I simply watched as he got the water.

Those eyes.

Kind of like…my own. Did he have the same disease as I? Maybe I wasn't alone, and then hope for answers became a priority in my mind. He seemed French by his accent, so that must mean there are obviously others in other countries that possess this strange deformity

I began to wonder, even as the man returned and set the glass of water down. I picked it up instantly and began to guzzle it, not realizing how the smoke had parched me. I set down the empty glass and breathed, closing my eyes. He watched quietly, taking back his seat and leaning forward.

"Better?" He asked.

"Very much, thank you." I replied, raising my eyes back to his.

He looked back evenly, and I recognized the look in his eyes. Inspection. He saw my own eye color and was examining them. I felt a blush once more, and his eyed widened slightly as he watched them change.

"Your eyes jus' changed color…" He murmured, intending for me to hear, but just loud enough to make out.

My gaze drooped, and I felt self-conscious. Perhaps my appearance did bother him. Maybe just because he seemed to have the same problem didn't mean it wasn't still disturbing.

"I'm sorry sir." I felt impelled to say.

He raised a brow inquisitively. "Why's dat?"

I looked back up. "My eyes…that they disturb you…"

He chuckled and leaned back, blunting the end of his almost nonexistent tobacco roll. "Petit, if dose pretty eyes bothered Gambit, He'd be a hypocrite! He got a pair too." He cocked his head to the side, his hair waving hypnotically over his forehead. I watched a moment before catching myself staring again. "Gambit was more afraid dat his eyes would bother you."

I blinked. "No, not at all, they're…exotic. I've never seen their equal."

"Neither has Gambit."

"Gambit?" I inquired.

He grinned widely. "Dat's my name!" He suddenly reached across the table and swept up my hand into his, and kissed my knuckles with a tenderness that made my heart flutter. Of all men to have kissed my hand, that kiss was undoubtedly the most enjoyable. I smiled, flattered that such a man, obviously not from noble upbringing, would make such a noble gesture towards me. "Remy LeBeau at your service mon ange…also known as Gambit…" He released my hand only to reach forward, and my breath got stuck in my throat again as his fingers fingered my hair, his eyes watching it as he ran his hand easily through it. He trembled. He grinned wider.

"Gambit not gonna hurt you chere…" He said, my eyes watching the curb oh his lips as he spoke, and my imagination once more over actively imagined something positively sinful, and I blushed deeply, noting to myself to pray for forgiveness for such unchaste thoughts.

"I'm not afraid…" I lied. I was afraid. Afraid of the new sensations I was feeling, and afraid to feel them for the man that had met me, he looking for a 'good time'.

"Liar…" He said bluntly, pulling a tin out of his pocket and opening it. It was filled with tobacco, and rolling it in paper he had placed under the lid, he looked me dead in the eyes as he pulled a card out of his pocket, and, to my astonishment, it began to glow. With the edge of the fiery card, he lit the end his tobacco. "Remy tinks you have a lot to talk wit him about."

I stood quickly, finding myself breathing again. What had he just done?

He stood as well, and though I turned and walked out of the tavern, noting the curious gazes as I left, this 'Remy LeBeau' followed. My heart began to thud, and I walked faster, and he hurried along to catch up, grabbing my arm. I whirled at him with an open palm, intending too slap him to teach him a lesson, but to my great surprise, he caught it easily. He leaned in a little closer.

"Now what did Gambit do to deserve a slap?"

"Gentleman do not follow ladies Mr. LeBeau!" I replied, staring up into his smoldering embered eyes.

"N'what makes you tink that's what Gambits doin?" he teased, leaning his head lower towards mine. I felt my defenses starting to fall at the close proximity…or was it something else… something out of my control.

I blinked, my mouth slightly agape. "Y-you followed me right out…you grabbed my arm."

"Caught you're arm," He interrupted abruptly, "Just so a poor fool can get d'name of dis pretty angel!"

"You mock me?" I said in exasperation at the shallow compliment.

"Non, just charm you." A roguish smile bloomed onto his face, and I leveled my nose defiantly, an act that surprised even me, but I suspect it was out of defense.

"Scoundrel!" I spat, pulling my arm free, which he released before hand, making me stumble slightly.

He smiled and did a sweeping bow motion.

"At your service!"

I just stood, amazed at this man. He took my insults as compliments, moved as sleek as a mink and spoke to me as if I were just another street-side brothel girl! One moment a gentleman, the next a common thug!

"Your name…please?" He stood, a mere foot away, awaiting my answer in a way that made me suddenly rethink that impression of him, and compelled, by what I do not know, I answered him.

"Celeste…. Miss Celeste Benedict." I whispered, bowing my head and looking away. Perhaps my name, my family name, would frighten him off.

He smirked. "Noble…dat explains it."

"If you know of the Benedict name you know my father would not tolerate this behavior." My feet suddenly became very interesting as I spoke. He knew who I was now. The act would end, and he would leave, knowing I wasn't the pleasure he sought for that night. But why did that thought bother me so much?

"Nope, dun' know him!" He strode past me and leaned against the brick of the building beside us, the cigarette that had been sitting between his fingers raised to his lips to be smoked. He inhaled the nicotine deeply and blew out the stream of smoke. Diluted, the scent of him, whisky and the smoke, smelled heavenly somehow. "Gambit can tell you high class by how you introduce yourself, and how outta place you were in d'bar!" He gestured his head with a small bend towards the building in question and sucked in the smoke again.

I was dumbfounded.

"Y-you don't know who I am?" I stuttered in amazement.

He shook his head. "No ma'am, Gambit not from dis town… He only steal from it."

"Y-you're a…a t-thief!"

Those intense eyes were on mine again, and he nodded. "Oui."

"Mr. LeBeau…I…why do you tell me these things?" The words slipped through my lips, earnest and desperate. "What makes you think I am the kind of person that will not turn you in for such a crime."

"Gambit is a pirate name chere…you'd never catch me!"

I somehow realized the truth in that. No man of the guard, chivalrous as most were, would ever be able to capture a pirate with such abilities as Gambit…

I looked at his hands, gloved in leather, the pointer and pinkie fingers cut off in stark contrast of pink skin against the black.

"How do…how do you do that…how did you make the card glow…" I looked up at him, unashamed this time. "Do you have that mutant disease too?"

He made a sour face at my words, and by nature, I shrunk back.

"None chere, I dun have a disease…I have a gene that makes me dis way…" His tone was serious as he walked forward, towards me, the clunk of his boots heavy on the cobblestone. The sudden lack of his usual third person monolog made his lighthearted personality take a turn that made me realize just how vulnerable I was to him. "Its in my blood and gives me dat power…dis power." In movement my eyes could barely detect, another card was in his hand, aflame in a magenta glow and cackling with power. It easily lit the street, and cast an eerie glow on his face. "If I let go a dis card, mon ami….dis street would be history. But as long as I touch it…I control it." The card suddenly lost its glow, and was back to normal. It was an ace of hearts.

He handed the card to me, and I took it gingerly, as if it could easily be broken.

He stepped in close, and whispered. "Gambits gotta go mon ange…but…take dis and remember de thief a hearts…"

With a sweeping motion, he caught my wrist and pulled me flush against him, and stole a deep and passionate kiss. Powerful yet gentle, his hand in my hair he pressed his lips tightly to mine, and then…he was gone, and I was alone, leaving me with kiss bruised lips and an ace of hearts in my hand…and in my memory. Indeed, that was what he was. Breathless and a little light headed I made my way back home.

But I would have never dreamed of how I would meet Gambit the pirate next.

AU I know I know, the story is a bit marysueish, but I am trying to keep Remy in character. Please leave a review and let me know if I'm doing ok. In this story, Remy is a Pirate, and a damn good one. Hes in twn that night looking for an easy lay of sorts, so he was up for charming some women. IC? I don't know, I thought so….how'd I do?


	3. chapter 2 Punishment

Chapter 2

A pirate.

I would have never imagined myself meeting one, or if at one point I had entertained the thought, I would have imagined I would have steered clear from one. But Remy LeBeau? He was dangerous yes, he had made that perfectly clear, but why hadn't I run away?

I contemplated that for hours, even after sneaking back into my room that night. I tossed and turned, lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling in thought. A **real** pirate…one with a nickname and all, and a mutant one at that, and still I wondered. What is a mutant. He had said it wasn't a disease, that it was in our blood…did that mean we didn't contract it, that it had been there all along waiting to come out?

I fingered the hem of my satin night dress and my thoughts drifted to less pressing memories of him, away from what he had said about our 'mutations' and more along the lines of his touch, his kiss, me trying to slap him and how swiftly he moved. It was like dancing, a choreographed movement he had displayed. The kiss was the same, expertly executed and swift. Almost…practiced.

I sighed, closing my eyes. He probably kissed a dozen other women that night, using that same charming smile, the same suave movements, the same smooth speech. 'He's a scoundrel and a pirate, and nothing more', I tried to convince myself. He acted on his nature and impulse, not out of duty or etiquette like any well natured man…but then…

There was Kyle. He was noble by birth but the word never suited him, and yet between the two, I was surprised to find Gambit the lesser of the two evils. MUCH lesser in fact! I would much rather have Gambits company than Kyles, and then it occurred to just as quickly. That's precisely why I didn't flee the moment I had determined his personality. Gambit acted on his impulses, as did Kyle, and yet, Gambit's impulses told him to fetch me water when the smoke parched me, while Kyle would have let me sit in discomfort for the sheer pleasure of it.

It proved to me stature is no sure way to determine ones heart.

Even after I had put my thoughts to rest for the night I still closed my eyes to see red on black ones looking back at me. It made for a restless nights sleep.

The next morning at breakfast, after squeezing myself into my corset and slipping on the new dress father petitioned me to wear, I went into the dining room to find father sipping his morning tea, the comical curly white haired wig sitting on top of his head, and you could tell he wore it proudly. He liked to wear it when he exercised his authority over his household. I also noted his attire, particularly clean and well pressed. He was planning on an outing of sorts I suspected.

I sat down quietly as usual, my head bowed in silent prayer as Marian, a servant in our household, served me a plate of toast, fresh fruit, and a small side of eggs and cheese in small portions. It was another wish of my father. He didn't want 'a daughter who paraded around with ridiculous girth'.

I offered Marian a smile, thanking her for her services, and as always, she curtsied and said it was her pleasure. I watched her walk away, my heart aching. When I was younger, I used to sneak into the servants quarters to associate with her and play with my toys with her. That was until I was found out, and my mother, may she rest in peace, took me aside and explained to me what father might do if he were to know. Neither Marian nor I wished to have to bear my fathers discipline, so we agreed we would never meet again, but always be friends. Even now I find little notes that she writes me in my room after she cleans it, and I always make sure to write back and replace it there so she can find it next time she's there. It's my only real friendship in this world.

"Did you enjoy your adventure outdoors last night?"

My fathers voice was cold as the steel sword strapped to his waist, a tone that made me freeze from chewing a strawberry, to trembling like a mouse cornered by a tiger.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. He wasn't going to let me get away with a stunt like that one, and the lecture was imminent, as was the inevitable punishment.

"Answer me young lady!" He shouted, his furious brown eyes staring at me from where he sat at the head of the table.

I knew I had to answer and risk letting my answer infuriate him further. My only hope was to leave out the details of the tavern and pray he saw me sneaking out, and nothing more. If he were to know of the Pirate I had met he would…

"I was merely trying to get some air…I have been in the house for so long with rare visits outside…I need to get out…please forgive my conduct…" My voice was so shaky I was surprised I was able to speak what I did. "It was not my intention to anger you."

His voice grew ever colder, and all the more daunting. "Then why go about it in secret? And at night of all times?"

I sat still and silent for a moment before I answered him. "Because I knew even if I had asked you would not allow it."

His eyes blazed and lower jaw jutted forward. "So it was delibrate insubordination!" I jumped, cringing as my father slammed down his teacup, undoubtedly cracking the precious heirloom.

"YOU Celeste, have been warned countless times to obey me! This little stunt of yours, should it be found out, would make me the topic of terrible gossip, and I'll not have that on my reputation just because you needed air! Does getting air really involve going into a trashy tavern and showing yourself loosely, as some sort of prostitute!" The words were loud and stinging, "You still wreak of that place! You probably defiled yourself there as well!"

I saw Marian, huddled behind a door with the teapot. She had been on her way undoubtedly to pour father more tea when his voice rose. It was normal in this house. Everyone hid when he lectured me, but this time, I began to fear that a lecture wouldn't be the end of it.

My father stood, and I my eyes widened as John walked in. John was Marians father, another servant of our family. He mostly tended the stables and other outdoor duties while his wife and daughter cleaned and serviced the house. He however was a big man, unlike the others. He was six feet tall at least with sun bleached hair and kind blue eyes that today, looked down at me with great concern.

"Today Celeste, you will learn your place in this world!" Father nodded to John and he began to walk towards the door. Father took my hair in his fist as he walked by and twisted it in his hand, pulling me up from my chair with a frightened cry. I didn't fight him, knowing whatever punishment awaited me would be worse should I try, but as they led me outside and to the barn, my stomach knotted up at the sight of the rope and horsewhip draped over a nail at the door..

"Slip off your dress at once Celeste." I was commanded once I was pushed inside.

Stumbling forward, I obeyed, the tears suddenly springing to my eyes as I realized what he was going to do. My fingers fumbled with the laced tie that went up the front of my dress, and as I pushed it down, Johns wife Marie, began to unlace the back of my Corset, tears in her ageing blue eyes.

"Forgive us Miss Celeste…" She whispered, her voice soft and low as my dress and other clothing pooled around my ankles, leaving me in the slip dress that was worn beneath my cloths. John walked forward then as well.

"You do what you must, I hold no ill will," I reassured her, with my kindest voice and softest smile, though it wavered nervously. John began to tie my hands together pull me towards the gate where the horses were kept in, and tied me there. He regarded me with much the same look his wife did. "My love for you does not change because of this…I promise."

"Oh sweet child…" Marian swept my long hair over my shoulder and off my back, before she left me there, weeping softly.

John nodded grimly, stepping back as father handed him the horsewhip.

"Kneel you filthy whore, and remember why you're receiving this." My father smugly raised his nose as he stood to the side to watch. "She gets 30 lashes, and you must count down thirty between each one. And don't hold back or it's you that's on the line. She must learn her lesson."

Kneeling in the dirt and straw in nothing but my slip dress, I closed my eyes, bracing myself as the tears fell quickly, soaking my neck and chest.

That's when the first strike came, and the sharp crack of the whip echoed in the air as the leather lashed brutally at my exposed back. The force of the impact pushed me forward into the wood, splinters forcing their way into my knuckles as I leaned against the gate. Pain throbbed, in a vertical strip across my back, and after my initial cry, I whimpered, my chest shuddering with sobs. Thirty lashes with thirty seconds in between each…Fifteen minutes of agony awaited…

I felt hands under me, lifting me up. After that registered in my brain, there was only pain.

"Will she be alright John?"

A voice? Marie?

"She should, but we should clean up the abrasions on her back before they get infected."

A deep voice. John…That was definitely John.

"Ooohhh…" I moaned in discomfort, then, as I felt something soft and comfortable beneath me, and recognizing the smell, I realized I was on my bed. I let myself sink into it without a second thought. The pain was just too excruciating.

"Shhh, it's okay Miss Celeste, I will clean your wounds for you at once and give you some herbs to lessen the pain." Marie stroked my hair comfortingly, and for a few moments, I even let myself imagine it was my mother sitting there beside me. It was a happy illusion…

I heard heavy footsteps and cringed, but relaxed as Marie began talking to John again. He must have left and come back with the things Marie had mentioned, because then I felt the relief of a cool rag on my back. I didn't mind the minor irritation it caused my throbbing open wounds. The cold water was so soothing that it was a small price to pay.

"Oh my lady… You did not deserve such a beating."

I smiled softly, finally opening my eyes to realize that my slip dress was ripped and bloody from the impacts of the whips. I tried to cover myself but Marie quickly objected and shooed John out of the room.

"I owe you a great deal for your kindness Marie…thank you." I trembled, thankful that the pain was changing into a dull throb. It was easier to bear.

"Just rest Miss Celeste, You are in need."

The suggestion was already under way. I was tired. Exhausted in fact…and sleep was a sure fire way to escape the pain…

As I slept, she dressed my wounds and helped me into a fresh slip dress to sleep in. I don't know how long it took or how long I was asleep, but by the time I opened my eyes, it was well past sunset and dark outside.

I lay in bed for quite a while, reflecting on the beating, Marie and Johns kindness, and my fathers brutality. The whips were so strong they broke skin, and I swear, a few times I felt something sharp ripping deep into my back. Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Father would enjoy the sight of my blood as much as the sight of my pain. He hated and resented me, and he delighted in the acts of tormenting me. You see, he had wanted a son.

Either way, I was grateful for the sleep. I brought the pain to an end and brought me to a more peaceful place. As I've said before, the escape from reality brought me hope. It still brings me a sense of tranquility.

Red eyes. He curled tighter. No, he wasn't allowed here, Gambit was not allowed in this place! It was private, too personal! My minds eye still revealed him to me, and ever more I saw more than those all seeing eyes of his, and saw him as a person. I saw his white shirt open, hanging on his muscular body, the body of a natural athlete. I saw the sword hanging at his hip, saw how his auburn hair danced in front of his eyes, coaxing me closer.

He didn't make a move towards me, he didn't try to follow me when I turned to flea…he just, smiled.

I looked behind myself at him, and he reached out his hand, offering it to me.

"Let Gambit take you away chere…let him take you away from this place dat hurts you so…"

I turned, tears in my eyes.

Wasn't this what I had wanted all along? To be taken away?

His hand still held out to me, palm open, ready to take my hand should I surrender it

"Trust me…" He pleaded,

"I can't…" I whispered, shyly down casting my violet eyes. "…you're a pirate…"

He seemed to slip away into the recesses of my mind again, and secretly, I wished for his return. He looked forlorn as he shrunk into the darkness, leaving me in my tiny pasture of light to await the return of concousness.

I almost couldn't take it. Having someone there, someone I could recognize…someone in this place that might keep me company.

"Don't go…" I called, but my voice choked in my throat. I couldn't cry out, I couldn't call him back.

I realized I was sitting up as the line between asleep and awake was broken.

All was silent in my room, and the sun had gone down apparently, accounting for the darkness around me. The shadows seemed to move as the curtains of my window billowed inward with a breeze.

My window was left open?

Then, before my eyes, the shadow on my wall moved, and crawled into my view.

My eyes widened, and as moonlight yellow eyes opened and looked at me, I opened my mouth to scream only to find it instantly muffled by a leather-gloved hand. My heart tripled in speed, and again I made an attempt to cry for help, tossing my head to shake off the hand that silenced me.

"Aww come now, chere… dun fight." Spoke a familiar voice, soft and gruff and laced with a french accent. Gambit! I froze in place, my chest rising and falling with each breath, feeling the warmth of another human directly behind me, smelling the musk of tobacco and whisky that I remembered, and even the scrapping of his stubble dusted jaw against my neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Didn' you miss Gambit?"

I shivered helplessly , and goose bumps rose on my skin as his arm surrounded my waist and pulled me back, flush against his chest.

I swallowed, the shadow on the wall catching my eyes as it took the definite form of a man and jumped down, an arrow tipped tail wagging behind him. He wore a white shirt, one that laced up slightly, but the cords hung loose and unused. I also made out old faded dress pants that were cut into capris and tucked into his cummerbund, was a pirates cutlace. I squirmed in Gambits grasp as the yellow eyed mutant approached, twitching his elf like ears. He jumped onto the foot of my bed with the agility of a feline, his strange feet making it possible for him to clutch it and balance there perfectly.

I whimpered and bowed my head, feeling a tremble setting into my limbs.

"Stop playing mien freund, ve need to get her to ze ship before ze Captain leaves vit'out us!"

His voice was German, a stark contrast to Gambits French. They had to be comrades on the same ship. I wriggled once more finding that my wrists had been tied behind my back. I felt foolish, hating my ability to sleep through anything.

"Calm down Kurt, The Captain can't leave without his bargaining chip, non?" He pulled me from the bed and to my feet, and I was thankful that Marie had thought to lace my dress back up for me before she departed.

The other mutant approached and looked down at me with eyes that I found surprisingly gentle for such a devilish appearance.

"Forgive us Miss, y'vill be home again soon." I made out two pointy fangs as he spoke, and I nearly had it, my knees buckling. It was both bizarre and surreal, and my wits were nearing their end. He took both Gambit and I by the shoulder, reaching past me to my mutant betrayer and suddenly, I was surrounded by smoke and a loud resounding, BAMF noise. I coughed, trying to clear my throat of it, when I felt a wind brush past me and there, I stared with open eyes at the harbor

. The lamp-lit docks were being flooded by guards, and many of them were on their backs, bleeding, or unconscious. I heard gunfire, the crossing of swords, and many other undeterminable sounds. I even thought I saw a man made completely of metal hurling two guards into the water. I was dumbfounded, and my only line of reasoning was this. They had to be mutants.

"Come on petit, de party's already started!" I felt Gambits arm around my waist as he hoisted me over his shoulder, and feeling his hand away from my mouth, I screamed with all my voice for help.

"Unhand me! Stop! You…YOU BARBARIAN!" I had every intention of making this as difficult for him as I possibly could, but he seemed not to notice my efforts as he ran my up a ramp onto what must have been the pirate ship. "Captain, one commodores daughter, as requested!" I would have verbally reprimanded him out for that as well, had I not at that moment been thrown onto my backside. And then, I could not have found the words if I had the mind to form them.

The Captain as he was called stood over me, his dark hair combed into an awkward hairstyle, almost like two horns emerging on the back of his head, and cold eyes stared down at me. His bearded jaw was set in a firm line, no trace of a grin or smile. He wore no hat, like I thought a captain of a ship would wear, but an amazingly crafted sword hung at his hip, the gold glinting in the dim light.

However, it wasn't the sword that caught my eye, but his hands. Three blades protruded from the skin of his knuckles, the length of good sized daggers, and twice as sharp.

His eyes shifted from me, to Gambit. I was stunned silent.

"Get her below decks and into the brig, I'll deal with her shortly."

Okay, to clear a few things up, Celeste is my original character. I guess there was a little confusion. I the next chapter had much more Wolverine and Gambit action in it, and a little bit of kurt and the others And the ships name is the Black Bird. Razorblades, thank you so much for your loyal comments, it made it worth while to post this chapter!


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